


All the Company of Heaven

by ivyfic



Category: Constantine (2005)
Genre: Gen, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 08:23:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13050204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyfic/pseuds/ivyfic
Summary: "I've been hearing all sorts of crazy stories about your adventures at Ravenscar."





	All the Company of Heaven

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GVSpurlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GVSpurlock/gifts).



Midnite looked at the evening’s take in disgust. It was hard to run a bar for halfbreeds when there didn’t seem to be any halfbreeds around. He'd expected the demons too disperse, after the kid's plan with the cross of Seriac. It never took very long for the demon's to come crawling back, though. Too many humans making it too easy for them to cross over.

No, the question was the angels. A triumph like this one, defeating Mammon, saving the balance for the humans they loved so well, his club should have been drowning in ambrosia. He looked from his office through the hole still in the door to the club, seeing no one except his bartender. With the week they were having, he'd have to let her go soon. He'd already fired the bouncer, for as useless as he'd turned out to be. Midnite had had his ear to the spirits and had heard some of what John had done, but nothing that would drive the angels to ground. It was uncanny.

Neutrality had been a good gig, while it lasted. Maybe it was time to find a new angle.

He felt John when he entered the club--even if John weren’t his own unique flavor, he was about the only regular patron still walking around. Midnite cut the music as John approached—there was no one to object, in any case.

“I heard about the boy,” Midnite said. “He was annoying, but I liked him.”

“Yeah.” John took a seat. Midnite had had the room cleaned up and the door repaired after the outburst the last time John visited.

“I’ve been hearing all sorts of crazy stories about your adventures at Ravenscar.” Midnite lit a cigarillo, the smoke curling lazily out of his mouth.

Constantine looked disgusted for a moment, then pulled a pack of nicotine gum out of his pocket and tapped out a stick.

“I see that some of the things I’ve been hearing are true. I always knew you were a dealmaker, John, but to convince Satan himself to cure your cancer? You’ll have to tell me about it someday.”

“Yeah,” John said. “Someday.” He paused for a moment. “What do you know about the celestial hierarchy.”

Midnite leaned forward. Interesting. “The hierarchy? Seraphim, cherubim, powers, dominations, thrones, archangels, angels. But only the angels reach down here to make the halfbreeds. The angels, and Gabriel, god’s messenger.”

“I’ve read Thomas Aquinas--I mean, what do you know about changes to the hierarchy?”

“The hierarchy doesn’t change. It never has. Not since the beginning of creation. Not unless you’re referring to Lucifer being cast out.”

“That’s what I thought, but I had something a little more recent in mind.”

Midnite stared at John for a moment. “Where is Gabriel? The angel halfbreeds are all in hiding. Gabriel’s library is empty. You know where he is.”

“No,” John looked at the table with a half laugh. “I have no idea where that little shit is. Probably in a homeless shelter somewhere learning what blisters feel like.” John held Midnite’s gaze for a moment. “The raising of Mammon, it was Gabriel. He lost his grace.”

Midnite banged his fists on the table. “Gabriel? Why?”

John didn’t seem startled by the reaction. “Too many years in the filth with humanity? Don’t know, don’t care. What I do care about is that an archangel lost his wings. What would happen then?”

“There are seven archangels; there have always been seven archangels.” Midnite’s agitation could not be contained sitting. “There is no what would happen then. The only angel who has ever fallen from grace is Lucifer. Another fallen--are you talking about a new Lord of Hell? Or a new realm for the damned, another Hell?”

John twisted in his chair to keep Midnite in view. “No--no, I’m pretty sure Gabriel is here on this plane, raving at anyone who will listen. It looks like the guy upstairs has a sense of humor--Gabriel wanted to save humanity, so he’s been made into a human. For all I know he’s got a soul like one of us now, and he’ll live and die and go to hell because he _knows_ but doesn’t _believe_. I can’t say the idea doesn’t tickle me on some deep level.

“No, I want to know, if Gabriel falls from grace, will a new angel rise into his place?”

“There’s no such thing as a new angel. Not even saints become angels. The angels were with God at Creation.”

John looked longingly at the cigarillo forgotten in Midnite’s hand. “Well, then I think we have a problem. Because I’ve seen a new angel.”

Midnite laughed, relieved. “There are thousands upon thousands of angels. If you’ve seen one you don’t recognize, that does not mean it was newly created.”

“I did recognize the angel. It was Chas.”

“Chas.”

“Yup.”

“The kid.”

“He was an altar boy, you know. Wanted to be an exorcist out of some strange combination of hero worship and true belief. And you know how irritating I find true belief.”

A suspicion sparked in Midnite’s brain. “How did Chas die?”

“Funny you should ask that. Gabriel killed him.”

“An archangel!” Midnite boomed. “An archangel murdered a human--a devout human--”

“Oh, it gets worse.” John said. He was clearly enjoying this.

“Well?”

“Do you know what Chas was doing right before being bludgeoned to death by an archangel? He was performing an exorcism.”

“He was praying--”

“--to God for his protection, yes.”

Midnite sat down again. “And now he’s an angel.”

“Maybe even an archangel,” John said. “If there have to be seven, somebody’s going to have to fill the role.”

“Mammon almost rises, an archangel murders an altar boy and falls from grace, a human becomes an angel--we are in uncharted territory.”

John leaned back and looked around the room, to the door to the empty club. “So, got anything going on for, oh, say the next week?”

Midnite felt the old excitement flicker. Constantine. The John Constantine. He smiled.


End file.
